As Time Goes By by Mary Higgins Clark Page B

Bruno, you are an expert in estate law. Is that correct?”
    â€œI would certainly hope so after thirty-five years in this practice.”
    â€œIf a person is convicted of the intentional killing of another person, can that person inherit from the victim?”
    â€œNo, that person may not profit from homicide.”
    â€œSo, Mr. Bruno, if Betsy Grant is convicted of murder, Alan Grant becomes the sole heir, is that correct?”
    â€œThat is correct.”
    Robert Maynard then looked at the jury and half-smiled. “Mr. Bruno, would you just remind us again what Alan Grant would get if Betsy is convicted.”
    â€œHe would receive the entire estate, which apart from the home is valued at fifteen million dollars. He would also receive his father’s half share in the Alpine home, which is now worth approximately three million dollars. Finally, he would receive all of his father’s personal possessions, such as jewelry and clothing.”
    â€œThank you very much, sir,” Maynard said.
    Prosecutor Elliot Holmes stood up. “You Honor, it is now after three o’clock. I know there will be a mid-afternoon break. I request that the state be permitted to call our next witness tomorrow morning.”
    â€œThat’s fine,” Judge Roth replied. After again cautioning the jurors not to discuss the case and not to read or listen to any newspaper or media coverage, the proceedings ended for the day.

12

    R obert Maynard had ordered a car to take Betsy home. “I’ll pick you up at eight o’clock tomorrow morning,” he said, “but I thought you’d want a little quiet time on the way home this evening.”
    â€œYes, I would. Thank you,” Betsy said softly. As the door closed, she was aware of cameras taking pictures of her, and they continued as she was driven away. She leaned back and closed her eyes. The day in court seemed unreal to her. How could anyone really believe she would harm Ted? She realized that her mind was always crowded with memories of the early days with him. The day they met when she was his patient after she broke her leg ice-skating. It was a nasty break, and in the emergency room of Hackensack Hospital they had sent for him to set it.
    She remembered how he had seemed to fill the room with his presence. He was holding the X-rays of her leg in front of him. “Well, you really did a job on yourself, Betsy,” he said cheerfully. “But we’ll fix you up as good as new.”
    She had been twenty-five then and a history teacher at Pascack Valley High School in Hillsdale and living a few miles away in Hackensack. She soon learned that Ted was a widower living in Ridgewood, also a few miles away. Their attraction to each other had been mutual and strong. They were married a year later.
    Alan was in his freshman year at Cornell and had welcomed her with open arms. As much as he missed his own mother, he knew that I was making his father happy again, Betsy thought bitterly. But ever since I persuaded Ted to cut back on the money he was giving him, the truth is he has hated me. He knows perfectly well that I would never hurt his father.
    Unconsciously she shook her head. Her mouth went suddenly dry and she reached for and opened the bottle of water in the holder beside her. She again was thinking of the day Ted took her over to see the house in Alpine. When Ted made his cash offer, the realtor said the owner would be willing to close in two weeks. On a beautiful spring morning only twelve days later, it became their new home.
    For eight years we were so happy there, she thought. And then it began. The little signs. They started around the time Ted was fifty-one.
    The early signs were his forgetfulness. Suddenly Ted became easily upset over trifles. A patient rearranging a scheduled visit irritated him terribly. He began to forget dates they had made socially. He was complaining he had too much on his mind, and it was obvious he was